Author's Note: First ever fic of mine to be added to ff.. I guess I just took forever to pluck up the courage.. I have a vague idea where this is headed.. but it's not completely set in stone.. sooooo bare with me!! Enjoy it.. and if it sucks too badly.. then errr lemme know!! Rating set for future refrences.. I may however change it..
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or anything to do with them.. unfortunately.. Tom Kring and all those awesome people do.. I do, however, own a pet that looks remarkably like Peter Petrelli which I keep in my cupboard.. heee.
Chapter 1: Distinct Absence of Sound
Silence.. nothing could be heard aside from the voices on the inside of his head, plaguing his existence with their incessant rambling of menial things.. outwardly, had someone dropped a pin it would have rattled the walls with its noise, the clattering of metal on concrete in such stifling stillness, the air thick with anticipation.. it would cause a hurricane in the west Indies.. what was it they said?? The flutter of a butterfly's wings was enough to cause a typhoon on the other side of the world?? He didn't doubt that now.. the vibrations of this aching chasm where sound should have been were enough to give him a headache, to make him feel as though his skull were shattering into a thousand razor sharp splinters, piercing his senses until he could see nothing but blind spots on the back of his eyelids..
Three months had passed since that rude awakening, the part in his life where everything changed.. he had been destined for greater things, to fight the good fight, without ever knowing why.. what was it about him.. about them.. which made them so special?? What could possibly have been so exceptional about them which made them so extraordinary?? It extended further than simple genetics, the strands of one's DNA, who their parents were. It was a puzzle with huge gaping holes where pieces had been lost, gone, along with the people who's faces were embellished onto their surface, carrying with them secrets and answers to questions he feared would never be asked now that they were gone.
He raised one of his hands to his face, the other resting beneath his head which lay upon the plush pillow, eyes scouring over the texture of his skin, balling his fist up before relinquishing the tightness once more, a frown setting in on handsome, dark and brooding features, chocolate brown eyes confused and uncertain, a trace of regret lingering within the pupils which studied his flesh so eagerly.
He looked like them, talked and walked like them.. and yet he felt as though he roamed these cavernous streets and alleys with a sign stuck to his back, mocking himself in a fashion which left him wallowing in something akin to schizophrenic paranoia. Peopled laughed at him.. the guy who walked around with his shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world rested upon his broad frame, without a care for the people which surrounded him.. without a smile for any single human being he came into contact with.. save for perhaps his confidante.. his light at the end of the tunnel.. someone who shared his grief, his sorrow and his secrets.. his niece.. his Claire.. it seemed like fate had flung them together, eternally bound not just by blood ties and his brother's teenage hormones.. but by destiny.. by purpose.
He sighed heavily, suddenly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the hand he had been so captured by, but the moment for contemplation was gone, brushed aside in a sudden blur of images and sounds, the rushing of footsteps towards his apartment door, the sudden clinking of the key in the lock, the creaking of the hinges and a happy, bright face peering into his kitchen, where she stood in clear sight of him from where he lay on the comfortable couch in his open doored living room, her blonde tousled locks falling into the line of view of her blue orbs.
"Hey Uncle Pete.." she chirped, her voice all sweetness and light, like fluffy clouds and candy floss as she swiftly shut the door behind her, bounding into his sitting room and suddenly crashing down on the floor in a hyperactive manner as she perched herself upon the ground, her legs crossed, her black leather satchel bag still hugging her torso as she wore it's strap diagonally across her form, a thin white swing jacket thrown on top of a pale blue tee, low slung jeans and ugg boots.
"Uncle Pete.." he mused, turning the words over in his mouth, allowing them to play on his tongue for a moment. He found it strange to hear her call him that.. but it fit snugly inside him, deep within the confines of his chest, somewhere close to his heart. "Now I feel old.." he finished, finally allowing himself to break from his stupor and grace her with a smile, his mouth twitching up at one corner, revealing a classically nonchalant and lazy manner about it, a lopsided and crooked boyish grin which made him seem a million times more starry eyed and bright than he had only moments before. He sat up, tossing his legs over the side of the couch, allowing bare feet to hit the wooden parchet flooring which decorated his stylish and bachelor-pad-obvious sitting room. He caulked his head to the side, studying her features as she studied him, his back leaning against the couch, his hands laying in his lap, fingers clasped together, that same thoughtful look on his face as before, when he'd been studying his own hand.
"What?" she asked him cautiously, her eyes narrowing slightly as her lips hitched up in a inquisitive smirk. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?" she asked, almost embarrassed, raising her fingers to her mouth a moment as he let out a low chuckle. He still couldn't quite believe that the cheerleader he'd saved, the one all the way back in Odessa, Texas had turned out to be more involved in his life than he had even contemplated was possible.
'Save the cheerleader.. save the world..'
What Future Hiro really should have said was 'save the cheerleader.. save yourself.' Without having absorbed Claire's and Sylar's powers the night he encountered the both of them, Peter would surely not have been alive. If Sylar hadn't killed him, then, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind, knowing the certainty of it more than anything else in his muddled and confused life, Ted's power would have swallowed him whole, consuming him from the inside out.
"Not at all.." he commented, finally standing up and moving about the coffee table which stood between them, standing to the side of her a moment before slumping down to place a loving kiss atop her crown of golden locks, moving off again before even uttering a good morning, reaching for his coffee maker to make a substance which would make him feel a little more alive and awake. "You're early.." he shrugged, his hand reaching for the coffee jar as he watched her still from the kitchen.
She craned her neck to look at him before eventually giving up the chase and standing up again, walking into the kitchen as she swung the strap of her bag over her head, dropping it on a nearby Easy chair which her uncle seemed so fond of. She shrugged a shoulder as she perched herself upon the bar stool facing him, her hands clasped in her lap as she raised her feet to place them upon the rail ring encompassing the four legs of her seat.
"Maybe you're just running late.." she offered with a cocky grin, a mischievous glint in her eye which reminded him so much of his brother, Nathan.. Nathan. The thought made his stomach clench a second, his breath caught momentarily in his chest as he allowed himself to simply stare at her unabashedly, his eyes glazed over by the sudden realisation that she was his brother's daughter, in every sense of the word. He tore his gaze away, his attempt at concealing the fact that he may falter, as he hitched up his lips in that classic Petrelli manner, that debonair charm which traced soft pillows of flesh, only one of the corners tucked up in a smirk, his nimble hands reaching into a cupboard to the left of his head for a mug to pour his coffee into.
"No.. you're definitely early." He stated in a matter of fact manner, his gaze playfully reproachful as he dipped down his head, half watching himself pour the warm draught of the living into his mug, the swirling black colour and pungent odour rising to his nostrils, and half watching his niece, who seemed a little too big for her own fluffy ugg boots this morning.
"I thought we could maybe stop at Starbuck's on the way.. get ourselves a mocha and a croissant.. but I see you beat me to it." A small smile graced her strawberry kissed lips as she nodded towards his mug, which was dangerously close to overflowing from the amount of liquid which had been generously tipped into it.
"Oh come on.." he laughed outright, not thinking about the fact that maybe she'd be a little hurt about him laughing at her, that she'd think that he thought her stupid for suggesting such a thing. "You know I don't do mocha.. or croissants.. but coffee.. coffee I do.." he smirked, raising the dull chocolate brown coloured porcelain cup to his lips and taking a huge gulp, allowing the heat of it to sear the back of his throat, the bitter taste awakening his taste buds and driving any ounce of sleepiness he held straight back down to the depths of his soul, the non-sweetened elixir acting as an adrenaline boost for him.
"Grab yourself a cup.." he motioned to the cupboard, suddenly placing his own mug on the counter top of the island in front of him. "I'm gonna go wash up and change." He nodded towards the door which led into his corridor, leading the small way to the bathroom and master bedroom. He stepped off, light feet padding the wooden flooring of his home, stopping only a snapshot moment as he poked Claire playfully in the ribs, before chuckling as she squealed, walking off with a shake of his head.
"I think I'll skip the coffee.." she shouted back to him from the kitchen, reaching across and picking up the cold item, swirling Peter's almost full cup of coffee in her hands, the potent smell almost causing dizzying effects all of its own without her having to actually drink it. "What is it anyway?" she asked sarcastically before answering her own question. "Tar.." she teased, pausing briefly before continuing. "Also known as.. Boy Coffee.." she finished, her tone taking on a sing song quality as she pretended to be all sweetness and light, an angelic halo almost appearing above her head of luscious locks. She could hear the tinkle of his laughter swimming through the air from his bathroom as the tap ran.. the sound which made her sigh with delight.
She couldn't have wished for a better outcome. She could never have even predicted that the boyish wonder with a curtain haircut and lopsided smirk who had once told her that life got better after high school would not only save her life from a murderous monster, but would also become such a huge part of her existence, his brother her biological father.. and what a special family they made indeed. Each had their own talent.. but as far as Claire was concerned, Uncle Pete's was the best. He could do it all.. be it all.. the good and the bad and still have enough love in his caring heart to blanket the world three times over. Fate had not been easy on the youngest Petrelli sibling, and yet he managed so valiantly, a hero in every sense of the word, and her father.. Nathan.. he had earned his own title. He had saved the world, he had become the knight in shining armour on a white steed that Claire had only ever dreamed about when a child.. when she felt different from the rest.. set apart and unique.. alien amongst her class friends.. her cheering squad. Those days now seemed almost laughable.
She allowed herself to linger on those thoughts a moment, or maybe more, her heart swelling at how lucky she was almost to the point where she thought it would surely burst out of her chest, her gaze misty and far away as she stared into the cup, deep within the black abyss of the overpowering substance, a subconscious grin planted on her face.
"What are you doing?" She heard his voice as though it were far away, reaching to her through a fog and dragging her back into clarity, the mist slowly ebbing back to the edges of her wandering mind. She looked towards him, unaware of how long she had been daydreaming and how he had even come to be in the room, completely washed and dressed and ready to set about the day, go on that visit they'd organised. He seemed to watch her tentatively, a comforting smile from his face lighting up the room and warming her inside and out.
"Waiting for you.." she huffed playfully. "What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked rhetorically, a childish smile gracing her eyes. "You take longer than a girl to get ready, Uncle Pete." She finished, punching him playfully on the arm before jumping down off the seat, walking round to pick up her bag and watch him as she swung the strap over her and put one arm through it.
"Uh I think not." His voice turned into a high pitched girlish ring, batting his long eyelashes and flicking his head to the side, trying to get the long bangs out of his sight in a valley girl manner, jutting out one hip and placing his hands upon the slight curvature of his body in an effeminate manner. It made her laugh, but she knew that deep down he was only doing it to indulge her.. Peter was not nearly so cheerful these days.
"Come on Patricia.." she teased, moving towards the door, her hands catching the yale lock latch before he'd even stepped off from his spot, his hands reaching for the light jacket which hung just near his front door. "Dr Mohinder Suresh is a busy man.. he won't wait forever.. and neither will the others.." she mused, walking out of the apartment before he had even managed to swing his jacket over one shoulder.